


Sing Me To Sleep

by coconuthead_Marr



Category: The Smiths
Genre: Eventual Smut, Fluff, Johnny saves Moz a bunch, M/M, Self Harm, Suicide Attempts, Suicide mention, it looks dark from all these warnings but it'll be very different from the tags i swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 14:50:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11277525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coconuthead_Marr/pseuds/coconuthead_Marr
Summary: Morrissey is about to jump off the iron bridge when someone stops him...





	Sing Me To Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> My good friend gave me the idea for this and i think it'll pan out well.
> 
> WARNING: There will be more than one suicide attempt in this work, and many mentions of it. If these issues will go too far with any of you, i suggest you don't read this fanfiction.

Morrissey stared at the icy water below him. His hands gripped the cold, snow-covered railing of the iron bridge. He reminded himself over and over, of why he was doing this. His visible breath was standing warm against the cold; it danced with each falling snow flake, and all he could think of was his freezing destiny.

"I suppose it's time," he told himself. He slipped off his shoes and shed his jacket, leaving them for someone who actually wanted to exist.  
Morrissey's newly-red hands steadied him as he swung his legs to the other side of the railing. He stared between his toes at the still river beneath him. This was fate. This was destiny. This was-

"Hello," said a young man's voice behind him, "I was just wondering what you're doing, standing on this bridge without a jacket on?"  
Morrissey looked back, and there was a short man, about his age. He had dark hair, which was mostly concealed by a winter hat, and brown eyes. He looked pretty cosy, Morrissey thought, and pleased with existence.

"If it pleases you to know," Morrissey said, "I'm going to jump".

"Oh. Alright," Said the man, "See, that's all well and good, but perhaps you'd like to postpone your final destination".

"And why?" Morrissey inquired.

"Well, I've just bought some hot chocolate, and I have nobody to share it with," he gestured to a bag he was holding, "I thought you might need it".

"I don't really know. I'm in the middle of something, as you can see".

"Well, I don't really want to leave you here to die," said the stranger, "This hot chocolate beckons you to come back and put your shoes back on".  
Morrissey wasn't sure why this strange man was trying to save him. He was flattered, really, but it didn't make sense. Nonetheless, there was something enchanting about him. He climbed over and put his shoes and coat back on. What's one more night?

"What's your name?" Morrissey wondered.

"It's Johnny," he replied, "Johnny Marr. And yours?"

"Morrissey".

"Just Morrissey?" Johnny asked, "That's a mouthful! Morrissey... I like it".  
The pair walked through the silent snowfall to Johnny's flat. Morrissey couldn't help but notice how attractive Johnny was. The street lights lit up his golden-brown eyes, and defined the shape of his lips. Perhaps he'd start flirting with Johnny, if he wasn't planning on jumping off the iron bridge.  
When they arrived at Johnny's small flat, Johnny went into the kitchen to make the hot chocolate.

"May I look through your record collection?" Morrissey asked.

"Go ahead. Put something on if you'd like," Johnny said from the kitchen.  
Morrissey thumbed through Johnny's collection. The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, The New York Dolls, The Marvelettes, The Cookies. These were Morrissey's favourite groups. 

"I love your collection," He shouted.

"You do? Fuck's sake, I can never seem to find anyone who likes 60's girl groups," Johnny shouted back.

"Neither can I," Morrissey agreed. He couldn't decide what to put on. He was torn between 'I Want A Boy For My Birthday' by The Cookies, and 'Ruby Tuesday' by The Rolling Stones. After a long time looking at them over and over and over, he chose The Cookies.  
Morrissey sat and listened, until Johnny danced over with a cup of hot chocolate. 

"I hope you don't mind, there are no marshmallows," Johnny explained, "I can't have them, I'm a vegetarian".

"You're vegetarian?" Morrissey's face lit up, "I am too!"  
Johnny smiled, and started humming along to the song. 

"So where do you live?" The brown-eyed boy asked.

"Actually, I stayed in a hotel last night," Morrissey's face turned cold, "I sold my flat. Don't need a flat if you're dead".

Johnny thought for a moment. Morrissey was worried he would call the police. He didn't want to have to be taken to some mental hospital or something like that.

"Why don't I let you stay here?" Johnny said, "You seem like you need company".

"Company is what I'm trying to escape," Morrissey scoffed, "Along with everything else".

"Well I think you're quite a nice person," Johnny smiled, "I'm not going to let you die".

"You can try if you'd like," Morrissey sighed. He yawned, and his eyes had trouble staying open.

"I'll get you a blanket," Johnny said, getting up and grabbing one, "Sleep tight Moz".

Moz? How terrible.


End file.
